Godlike son of Laertes, sharp-witted Odysseus, it’s better if I speak plainly and say what I think, and what will be: that way we can avoid sitting here talking pointlessly. There is not a single Achaean on earth who can persuade me to put aside my anger. Agamemnon can’t do it, and neither can you. What advantage is there for a man who fights constantly, without respite, against any enemy? Fate is the same for the brave man and the coward, the same honor goes to the strong and the weak, and death comes equally to the man who does nothing and the one who is busy. After suffering so much, risking my life at every moment in the heart of battle, I am left with nothing. As a bird carries to her young the food she has obtained, but for herself it has been only trouble, so I have spent many sleepless nights, and many days fighting enemies on a bloody battlefield. With my ships I came to twelve cities and destroyed them. And traveling through the fertile land of Troy, I came to eleven more and destroyed them. I carried off vast treasure and gave everything to Agamemnon, the son of Atreus; and he, who stayed in safety in his tent, near the ships, accepted it. Much he kept for himself, some he distributed to the others. To kings and heroes and chiefs he always awarded a prize of honor, and they all still have theirs, but not me: from me he took mine. Agamemnon took away the woman I loved and now she sleeps with him. Let him keep her, and enjoy himself.
But why should we fight for him? Why did he assemble an army and lead it here? Was it not for fair-haired Helen? Well? Is it only the sons of Atreus who love their women? No, every wise and noble man loves his woman and takes care of her, as I with all my heart loved mine, no matter that she was a slave of war. He took her away from me, stole my prize; now I know what kind of man he is, and he will not deceive me another time. Don’t try to convince me, Odysseus; think instead about how to save the ships from fire. You’ve done many things already without me—you built the wall, and beside the wall you dug a wide, deep trench lined with stakes. But you won’t stop Hector that way. While I was fighting with you, he didn’t venture far from his walls. He stayed close to the Scaean gates, and when he was feeling brave he pushed out as far as the oak. That was where he challenged me that day— do you remember, Odysseus? He and I, one against the other. He escaped with his life by a miracle. But now … now I have no desire to fight him. Tomorrow, if you want, if it matters to you, look toward the sea: at dawn, you’ll see my ships plowing the Hellespont, the men bent over their oars. And if the glorious god who shakes the earth grants us a good journey, after three days I will reach the fertile land of Phthia. All I possess I left in order to come and fight here, at the walls of Troy. I will return, bringing with me gold and purple bronze and gleaming iron and beautiful women, and everything that I won here: everything except Briseis, because he who gave her to me has taken her away from me.
Go to Agamemnon and tell him what I’ve said to you, and do it publicly, in front of everyone, so that the other Achaeans may understand what sort of man he is, and take care not to be deceived themselves. I tell you, however shameless he is, he will never have the courage to look me in the eye. And I will not come to his aid, either by fighting or by giving counsel. I’ve had enough—he can go to disaster. There’s nothing I can do if he acts foolishly. I care nothing for him, and I despise his gifts: even if he were to give me ten, twenty times what he has, even if he offered me as many gifts as there are grains of sand, even then he would not soften my heart. First he must pay, completely, for the terrible injury he has done me. And I will not marry one of his daughters, not even if she were as beautiful as Aphrodite or as wise as Athena. Hand her in marriage to someone else, maybe someone more powerful than I, someone of her rank … If the gods save me, if I return home, my father will choose a wife for me. I want to go home, I want to return, to enjoy in peace what is mine, with a woman, a wife, beside me. All the treasures that Troy conceals behind its walls, however vast, are not worth what life is worth. Oxen and fat sheep can be stolen, with gold one can buy one’s fill of horses and precious tripods. But life—it can’t be stolen, can’t be bought. It goes out of your throat and doesn’t go back in. My mother, one day, told me what my destiny will be: if I stay here, fighting beside the walls of Troy, I will never return but will have eternal glory. And if instead I go home, to my native land, there will be no glory for me, but I will have a long life, before death, walking slowly, comes for me. I say to you, too: go home. We will never see the fall of Troy.
Return to your tents and take my message to the Achaean chiefs. Tell them to find some other way to save the ships and the army. I can’t help them. Tell them that I remain steadfast in my anger.
I spoke, and they were all silent: disturbed and surprised by my refusal.
As I said, Phoenix was with them, the old man Phoenix. My father had ordered him to go with me to the walls of Troy. I was a boy, I knew nothing of war or assemblies. My father spoke to Phoenix, told him to stay with me and teach me everything. And he obeyed. He was like a second father to me. And now I found him on the other side, with Odysseus and Ajax, and it was absurd. So before he returned with them to Agamemnon, I said to him, “Stay with me, Phoenix, sleep in my tent tonight.” I said to him that the next day he could leave with me. I said that I wouldn’t insist, but if he wanted, he could leave with me and return to our homeland.
“Glorious Achilles,” he answered, “if you are really thinking of returning, how could I, my child, stay on alone, without you? For years I have loved you with all my heart. I made you what you are. Do you remember? You didn’t want to go with anyone else to the banquets, and even at home you wouldn’t eat unless I took you on my knee and fed you, cutting the meat for you and pouring the wine. You were a child. Capricious. How many times you soiled my tunic, spitting out your wine. But whatever the trouble or hardship, I was happy if it was for you, because you are the son I’ll never have. And today, if anyone can save me from unhappiness, it’s you. Soften your proud heart, Achilles. Don’t be so harsh. Even the gods are moved, sometimes, and they are a thousand times as brave and strong as you. They let themselves be appeased by the prayers of men, who, to redeem their errors, offer supplications, libations, and gifts. Prayers are the daughters of Zeus. They are lame, and squint-eyed, and wrinkled, but they struggle to follow in the footsteps of our errors to offer redemption. They are the daughters of Zeus: respect them. If you reject them, they will return to their father and ask him to persecute you. Agamemnon prays that you will let go of your anger: honor that prayer. Don’t let your demon anger control you. Come and defend the ships. What use will it be to save them when they are already in flames?”
Phoenix.
Good old Phoenix.
Don’t love Agamemnon if you don’t want to be hated by me, who love you. Don’t whine to defend him. Love those whom I love and be king with me, and share my honor with me. Let the others go back to the Achaeans with my message. You stay and sleep here, and tomorrow we’ll decide whether to return home on our ships.
At that point Ajax turned to Odysseus and said, “Let’s go, we’ll get nowhere like this. The heart of Achilles is savage and full of pride, and he is incapable of hearing the friendship we offered him. The Achaeans are waiting for an answer. Let’s bring it to them, even if it is a cruel, foolish answer.”
There, that’s a good idea, Ajax. Go back to Agamemnon and tell him on my behalf that I will return to battle when Hector reaches my ships, not yours. Here, at my tent, I will stop him, and not before.
They left. And I could imagine them, the Achaean princes, gathered that night around a fire, hearing my answer, astonished. I could see them return, one by one, each into his own tent, in silence, waiting for the rosy light of Aurora and begging for the gift of sleep.
Diomedes • Odysseus
Diomedes
We all slept beside our ships, overcome by weariness. But not Agamemnon. He was awake. He went on thinking, and the more he thought, the more his heart trembled in his breast. He looked toward the plain of Troy and what he saw was the Trojans’ fires, burni
ng by the thousand: they were so close that he could hear the voices of the soldiers and the sound of flutes and pipes.
Odysseus
So Agamemnon rose in anguish. He dressed. He threw over his shoulders the tawny skin of a lion that, broad and full, fell to his feet, and he took his spear and went in search of Nestor. Maybe he had an idea of how to get out of that trap. He was the oldest, the wisest. Maybe together they would think of a plan to save the Achaeans. He went looking for him. In the darkness—it was still night—he met his brother, Menelaus. He couldn’t sleep, either. He was wandering around, frightened, thinking of the suffering to which he—he—had condemned all the Achaeans. He was armed, the spear in his hand, the helmet on his head, and the skin of a spotted leopard over his shoulders. They looked at each other, the two brothers.
Diomedes
“What are you doing up, and armed?” Menelaus asked. “Are you looking for someone to send into the Trojan camp, to spy on the enemy’s moves? It won’t be easy to find anyone.”
“I’m trying to find a plan to save the Achaeans,” Agamemnon answered. “What Hector did today I have never seen done by a man. We won’t soon forget the evil he inflicted on us. I’m afraid that our men won’t remain faithful for long if they continue to suffer like this. Listen to me: you run beside the ships and call Ajax and Idomeneus. And as you go, tell the men to wake, and treat them kindly, don’t be overbearing. I am going to Nestor. I’ll ask him to come to the guard post and talk to the soldiers, they’ll trust him.”
Odysseus
Menelaus hurried off, and Agamemnon went to Nestor’s tent. He found him lying on a soft bed. Beside him he kept his weapons, the shield, the two spears, the shining helmet. And also that bright-colored war belt that he always wore when he went into battle, leading his men. Although he was old, he wasn’t bent by age, and would still fight. “Who are you, there in the dark?” said Nestor, raising his head. “Don’t come any closer. Tell me who you are.”
“It’s Agamemnon, Nestor. I’m here, walking around in the darkness, because sweet sleep won’t close my eyes while thoughts of the war and the sufferings of the Achaeans torment me. I am afraid for us, Nestor. My heart is bursting and my knees are weak. Come with me to the guard post. Let’s go and make sure the men are watching properly: the enemy is so close and could attack again, tonight.”
“Agamemnon, glorious son of Atreus, lord of men, why are you afraid?” answered the old man. “Hector won’t always win, and in fact I say to you that he will endure sufferings much greater than the ones he made us endure today: we must only wait for Achilles to return to battle. But come, we’ll go to the guard post. Let’s also wake the others, Diomedes, Odysseus, Ajax …” He wrapped himself in a large, heavy purple cloak made of fine wool and took his spear. Together they went to find the others. They came to me, first of all.
“Who is there in the dark? What are you looking for?”
“Don’t be afraid, Odysseus. It’s Nestor, and with me is Agamemnon. Get up and come with us. We must get together and take counsel, and decide whether to flee or stay and fight.”
Diomedes
They found me lying out on the hide of an ox, still armed, and surrounded by my men.
“Diomedes, wake up! How can you be sleeping with the Trojans camped so close to our ships?”
“Nestor, you are really something. Do you never sleep? Isn’t there someone younger you could send to wake the Achaeans one by one? But you are never tired, eh?”
Finally we all reached the guard post. There no one was sleeping, the guards were armed and alert. Keeping a constant watch on the plain, they waited, listening for signs of the Trojans. Nestor looked at them proudly. “Go on watching like that, my sons: don’t let sleep overcome you, and our enemies won’t have a chance to laugh at us.” Then he crossed the trench and sat down on the ground, in a clear space where there were no bodies of fallen men. It was more or less the point where Hector had stopped when he saw night descending. We all followed him there, and sat down.
Odysseus
“Friends,” said Nestor, “is there any one of you bold and confident enough to penetrate the Trojans’ camp and capture someone or listen to what they’re saying, to find out if they intend to go on fighting here, at our ships, or are thinking of returning to defend themselves within the walls of their city? If anyone could do such a thing and return safe and sound, his glory among men will be great. All the princes will give him rich gifts, and his enterprise will be talked of at every banquet, every feast, forever.”
Diomedes
“I am both brave and bold,” I said. “I can do it. Give me a companion and I will do it. If there are two of us, I will be even bolder. And two heads are better than one.” Then they all offered; all the princes said they were willing to follow me. Agamemnon looked at me and said that I must choose. He said also that I mustn’t think of offending anyone, that I should choose freely. It didn’t matter even if I chose a man who was not of noble birth—no one would be offended. He was thinking of Menelaus, you see. He was afraid that I would choose his little brother. But I said: I want Odysseus, because he is brave and he is also clever. If he comes with me, we’d manage to escape even blazing fire, because he knows how to use his brain.
Odysseus
He began to praise me in front of the others, but I made him stop. I said it was better to get going: the stars had made much progress in their course, and dawn was near. What was left of the night was all we had.
We put on our tremendous weapons. Thrasymedes offered Diomedes a two-edged sword and a shield. Meriones gave me bow, quiver, and sword. We both put on helmets of leather: no bronze, no gleam that might betray us in the darkness. When we left, we heard in the darkness the cry of a heron. I thought it was a sign from heaven and that this time, too, Athena, the shining goddess, was with me. “Let me return safe and sound to the ships, friendly goddess, and help me to carry out an undertaking that the Trojans will never forget.” We hurried silently through the black night like a pair of lions, walking amid piles of corpses and heaps of weapons, and pools of black blood.
Diomedes
Suddenly Odysseus says to me, “Diomedes, Diomedes, do you hear that sound? There’s someone there, someone coming from the Trojan camp and running toward our ships. Be quiet. We’ll let him go and when he gets closer we’ll jump him, all right?”
“All right,” I say.
“And if by chance he tries to run away, we’ll cut off his escape so he can’t turn back. We’ll drive him away from home. Let’s go.”
Odysseus
We left the road and slipped into the fields, which were littered with dead bodies. And immediately we saw the man running right in front of us. We followed him. He heard us and stopped. Maybe he thought we, too, were Trojans, who had been sent to help him. But when we arrived within a spear’s throw, he realized who we were and ran. And we were behind him.
Diomedes
Like two hunting dogs, stalking their prey without pause through the thick of the wood, in pursuit of a fleeing deer or hare … The problem was that he was now about to reach the wall, fall right in the hands of our sentries. And this no, you know? After that whole chase, then to be cheated of my prey, no. So, still running, I shouted, “Stop or I’ll take you out with my spear, I swear, stop or you’re dead!” and I threw the spear, aiming a little high. I didn’t want to kill him, I wanted to make him stop. The spear passes over his right shoulder and he … stops. It always works, that trick.
Odysseus
He stammered, his teeth chattering in fear. “Don’t kill me, my father will pay whatever ransom. He is rich in gold, and bronze, and well-wrought iron.” He entreated us and wept. His name was Dolon, the son of Eumedes.
Diomedes
I, for myself, would have killed him. But as I said, Odysseus was the one who used his brain. So I stand there and Odysseus starts to interrogate him. “Stop thinking about death and tell me instead what you were doing out here, so far from your camp
. Were you stealing armor from the corpses, or are you a spy sent by Hector to our ships to discover our secrets?” He wouldn’t stop crying. “It’s Hector’s fault, he tricked me. He promised me the chariot and horses of Achilles, I swear, and in exchange he asked me to go to your ships and spy on you. He wanted to know if there were sentinels guarding the camp or if by now you were thinking of flight, or were sleeping from the exhaustion and suffering of your defeat.” Odysseus smiled. “The horses of Achilles? This is what you want, nothing less than the horses of Achilles? Good luck: it won’t be easy to keep them under control and drive them, for a simple man like you. Achilles himself has trouble, and he is half god.”
An Iliad Page 6